by T. R. Hamby
She was everything that God was not. She was kind to her people, gentle. She didn’t take away their free will; she didn’t threaten or lie to them. She was mothering, caring. She gave life, and she didn’t threaten to take it away.
Suddenly he realized something, and he looked around at them.
“God is evil,” he said.
There was a pause. Everyone looked around at each other, shifting uncomfortably. It seemed that, no matter how much they had each professed God’s maleficence, none of them had been willing to state, outright, that God was truly evil.
He nodded. “That’s what it is. There are no rules--except one. God can’t act evil. He can’t do evil things to us.”
“And that’s what he’s been doing for millennia,” Nora breathed.
“You’re right,” Mel murmured, and his head twitched. “He took her from me….an innocent woman….”
He shuddered, and Nora grasped his arm, murmuring in his ear. His sapphire necklace sparkled on his chest.
Lilith made an anguished noise.
Michael, beside him, was very pale, guilt written all over his face.
But suddenly he frowned, and sat up a little. “What if,” he said quietly, avoiding Mel’s gaze, “what he did….what I did….what if there are no technicalities?”
“What do you mean, Mica?” Gabriel asked.
“I mean, what if Father still killed?” Michael breathed. “On that day….and ever since? What if it doesn’t matter that he didn’t do it directly?”
Mel looked at him, bewildered. “What’s the point, then? Why make us do it when it still causes damage?”
“What if he doesn’t know?” Michael replied, finally looking at him.
There was an impressed silence.
Barry frowned. “That means that he’s been weakening every time the two of you killed someone. Every time we killed someone.”
“That’s a lot of power--hundreds of thousands of years’ worth,” Nora breathed. “How much does he have left?”
Enough, Them said, and Barry held up a finger before anyone could interrupt. He’s an ancient Being. His power is very old. It would still take a lot to defeat him.
“What, are we defeating him now?” Mel scoffed. “Come on.”
“Isn’t it looking that way?” Nora asked hesitantly. “I mean, we can kill these Demons, but what happens after that? God, just, shakes hands with us and says ‘good game?’”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it,” Michael said, and Nora turned to face him.
“We’re about a foot away from that bridge, Michael,” she said firmly. “We have to start planning now.”
I might have to come down, Them suddenly said, and Barry and Andreas gasped.
Everyone quieted, and Barry repeated her words. Most of them went pale.
“It’s too dangerous,” Andreas immediately said. “He’ll see you. You’re not strong enough.”
I’ll have to train, she said quietly.
“You don’t know what he’ll do. He could kill you in an instant.”
“Them is a goddess,” Michael said, “not a human or an Angel. I don’t think he can kill her just like that.”
Barry was conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted Them to stay safe. On the other, they needed her help. Would God come down to kill Gabriel himself, when all the Demons were dead?
He felt a flash of dread, and reached for Gabriel’s hand, grasping it firmly. Gabriel looked at him, his dark eyes glittering. He looked the same as Barry felt: afraid.
Let’s leave it for now, Them finally said. I’ll train. I need to strengthen my power anyway. You all must focus on these Demons.
There were nods, though everyone was deeply troubled.
“But the Demons,” Nora said. “Them, you said you could feel the universe shifting--like something bad was going on--and then these Demons appeared.”
Yes, Them said slowly. It felt evil.
Nora nodded. “So God isn’t supposed to--to reaminate either….is he?”
But Mel was shaking his head. “He brought you back, and you don’t look like those creatures.”
“That was good, bringing Nora back,” Gabriel said. “What he’s doing with these Demons isn’t. Like Them and Barry said--it’s evil.”
“Evil intentions,” Michael murmured. “The one rule. Thou shalt not commit evil acts against thy Creation.”
Barry picked up his pen.
“The Golden Rule,” he said, scribbling on the paper, “he can’t be an evil bastard.”
Andreas
“Let’s take a break,” Andreas said, getting up from the table.
“We need to talk,” he said to Them.
He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he went to the study and closed the door.
Are you angry with me? Them instantly asked, worried.
“No,” Andreas sighed. “I’m not angry. I’m confused. I’ve been training for weeks, and my Talent’s barely done anything. I can Create a clover better than I can produce a flame.”
He was speaking his native Swedish, which Them spoke fluently.
She was gentle. I know….I think it’ll take time. Everyone is distracted by the murders, too.
“We don’t have time,” Andreas said. “You can’t--perhaps--give me a boost?”
He knew she was trying not to chuckle. I don’t think I can. I gave you your Talent. It has to develop on its own.
There was a pause, and she said, You need to learn how to fight. You’re unkillable down there; you can protect the others. Protect Gabriel.
“I’ve been learning. Mel’s been teaching me.”
They were quiet for a moment.
Andreas leaned on the desk, folding his arms. “When are you going to tell me what you are? What your relation is to these people?”
She hesitated. Please be patient, Andreas.
He sighed, feeling a pang at the pain in her voice. “All right. I’m sorry.”
There’s no sense burdening you….no sense burdening anyone….
“You’re still vulnerable, you know,” Andreas said firmly. “Don’t weaken yourself carrying your secrets.”
She didn’t reply, and he knew he had stumped her.
There was a knock at the door.
It’s Roone, she said.
Andreas smiled, a little cheered, and let him in.
Roone, tense, looked around, as if expecting to find Them right there in the room.
“Don’t worry,” Andreas chuckled, “I didn’t conjure her here.”
“I didn’t….I didn’t realize you could talk to her,” Roone said quietly. “Until yesterday.”
“Of course I can. She Ascended me, remember?”
“Not exactly--I wasn’t there.”
Them chuckled.
He leaned on the desk beside him. “Tell me about Ascending again.”
Andreas took a deep breath and sighed; Roone had requested this story a couple times.
“I died, a very painful death. Then I woke up in a….I suppose a neutral Place, in my childhood home. Where my little sister and I grew up.”
He felt a sharp pang, remembering his sister, his parents. Them shushed him, and he was soothed a little.
“Theresa was there--one of Them’s Valkyries. She’s very sweet, very strong. She told me about Them, and about her Realm, her Place. She told me about her own life, and how she had Ascended.
“I didn’t want to leave Earth, but I couldn’t go back. So I chose to Ascend….it was night when I arrived, and….”
His breath hitched. “I was afraid. I was….grieving. Them was there….she sat with me and held me. It was like having another sister. It is like having another sister,” he said, giving Them a wink.
Roone was quiet. He suddenly looked pained, and fixed his gaze on his shoes. “Is she here now?”
“Yes.”
“Does she….does she hate me?”
Andreas’ heart ached at the anguish in his voice.
No, Th
em said gently.
Andreas took his hand. “No.”
Roone only looked a little relieved. “Can she make me stop loving Nora?”
Them paused. No, she murmured sadly. I don’t think I can….this isn’t an infatuation or a dalliance. It’s deeply rooted. Too much of your mind is wound up in it. I could hurt you.
Andreas sighed, but dutifully repeated her words. Roone looked defeated, but nodded. “Thank you.”
I know he can’t forgive himself, she said, but he has to try and believe that he can redeem himself. He has to believe he can.
Andreas hesitated, but relayed her words. Roone looked almost troubled. He shrugged, his jaw working, and Andreas knew he was wondering if he could live up to her advice.
“Come on,” Andreas finally sighed. “More things to discuss, I imagine.”
“Michael was saying something about a dream.”
They returned to the kitchen, and everyone sat down. Andreas looked around--Gabriel and Barry were murmuring to each other, as were Michael and Mel, while Nora and Gilla listened.
Finally Michael sighed and said, “I’ve been having….dreams.”
And for the next several minutes he detailed these dreams--dreams in which he was a Creator and a Destroyer, with the name of Benjamin.
“Benjamin,” Roone said, frowning. “Benjamin.”
“No one you know?” Mel asked, almost curiously.
“None that look like Michael,” Roone replied.
“Maybe it is an Angel, though,” Gabriel said. “An Angel that looks like you.”
“But why would I dream about him?”
“This is someone who can Create,” Roone said. “No Angel can do that.”
“Someone who looks like you, and can Create,” Gilla murmured.
“Not another god,” Mel moaned, running a hand through his hair.
Michael was incredulous. “A god that looks like me?”
“Maybe we did have parents,” Mel whispered, looking horrified.
“And what? I killed them?”
“No--that can’t be right--you killed me too--”
“Michael didn’t kill anyone,” Nora said firmly.
She looked at Barry. “Does Them have any ideas?”
He and Andreas waited.
Them sounded confused. I don’t know, she said slowly. The dreams sound significant….but I don’t know what they mean either. I’m sorry.
There was a pause. Andreas thought they were done, when Michael said, “Father’s trying to speak to me.”
The group shifted nervously.
Barry heaved a sigh. “Not a surprise, really.”
No, Them said, and my shield is preventing him from making contact.
Barry relayed her words. Then she asked, Does he try to speak to you in these dreams?
Her voice was worried, and Andreas frowned.
“Yes,” Michael said. “Always.”
Then the dreams are connected.
“But how?” Michael asked.
“Maybe they’re about him,” Barry said.
There was a long pause. Mel and Michael looked struck, and everyone else looked flabbergasted.
Andreas was bewildered. In many ways he was still getting used to the Existence of a god….but now to know that….
“What?” he breathed. “He has….origins? Parents, a brother?”
“Fuck me,” Mel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t,” Michael exclaimed. “Father is trying to contact me, and all of a sudden is showing me his memories? Memories of himself, looking exactly like me?”
They were quiet.
“Let’s leave it there,” Nora finally sighed. “Talk later.”
So they dispersed, murmuring grumpily to each other.
I am sorry, Them said as Andreas closed the door to his bedroom. I really don’t know….it’s very strange.
“I hope it’s not another god,” Andreas sighed, tugging off his shirt. “Trying to leave some sort of message.”
No….I would have felt them, she replied.
He frowned. “So….you can feel God, too?”
Yes. Faintly.
“What….do you feel?”
There was relish in her voice. Fear.
Andreas felt a chill. “Can he feel you?”
No. He isn’t as strong as he was; his defenses are weaker than mine. The rule breaking is catching up to him, slowly.
Andreas got into bed, lost in thought. “If the Tree appeared as a byproduct of God’s sin, could more appear too?”
I don’t know. There haven’t been any other Trees.
“No….maybe not Trees….maybe something else….”
You’re tired. You need your rest.
“All right.”
And he fell asleep.
Roone woke him at seven.
Andreas got dressed. Both of them were wearing snowsuits, boots and hats, despite their immunity to the cold--they had to blend in. They said goodnight to everyone, and, taking his hand, Roone Traveled them to the dark and icy Elle Road.
It was an endless country road, bordered by snowy forest, and slick with ice. Andreas and Roone weren’t sure anyone would be driving in the icy conditions.
“I was wondering something before I fell asleep,” Andreas said as they walked along the edge of the road.
Roone looked at him, and he said, “If the Tree grew because God broke the law, has anything else….grown?”
Roone frowned. “Hmm. Well--what Exists that defies Father?”
They thought for a moment.
“Evil Angels, maybe?” Andreas suggested.
“I don’t know,” Roone said slowly. “Those are destructive to everything; the Tree was only destructive to Father. I think those Angels just occur naturally. Bad seeds. Same for humans.”
“All right. Something that defies God….”
They passed ideas back and forth for a while, making their way north. No cars drove by, and the darkness deepened. Roone took out a flashlight.
Suddenly Andreas had an epiphany. “Them!” he exclaimed, and Roone jumped.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t see it? Them defies God at their very foundation. She’s an opposing Being, almost as powerful as he is. She doesn’t threaten anything but him. She’s the Tree.”
Roone looked amazed, and let out a low whistle. “That’s a big tree.”
But then he looked at him. “But….how exactly did she….sprout?”
Andreas sighed. “I don’t know. She won’t tell me. I don’t think she’s told a soul what her origins are.”
“That’s not very trustworthy,” Roone said warily.
Andreas was firm. “I trust her. You didn’t see her with me, you didn’t--if you spoke to her….”
“Okay. I trust you.”
They were quiet for a moment. Roone slipped on a patch of ice, and Andreas righted him.
“We’re not going to hitch a ride with all this damn ice,” Roone said irritably.
“I think something terrible happened to her,” Andreas said, following his own train of thought.
It seemed obvious, with how pained she sounded whenever her past was mentioned. She hadn’t told anyone where she had come from, or what she even was. Was she a similar Being to God? What brought her to Existence? And what had hurt her so badly?
Finally they saw headlights, and Andreas leaned on Roone, feigning a limp. Roone waved, and the car--a van, good--pulled over, slipping slightly on the ice. The lettering on the side of the van read WELLS PLUMBING.
A middle-aged man, fair-haired and brown-eyed, pushed open the passenger side door.
“What happened here?” he asked in a friendly tone.
“Slipped on the goddamn ice,” Andreas said, in a decent Nova Scotian accent. “Twisted my ankle.”
“We’re coming from the logging site,” Roone said, in a bad accent. “We’re trying to get to Grace Landing.”
“I’m h
eaded that way,” the man said. “Another ten miles. You can sleep in the van if you want. I don’t mind.”
Andreas pretended to be relieved. “You’re a saint.”
“Hey, used to do the same thing,” he replied. “No money for a bus. Hop in.”
Andreas eased himself in, wincing, and Roone slid in beside him. They were all cozy now, three to a seat.
Andreas looked behind him. Eureka: the carriage of the van was empty, with a carpeted floor.
The man eyed them, and Andreas knew what was coming. “Bryan Wells,” he said, shaking Andreas’ hand.
“Andreas, and this is Roone.”
“Interesting names. Are you foreign?”
“My parents are Swedish. His just wanted his name to be unique.”
“Hasn’t done me any favors,” Roone said, and the three chuckled.
Wells was sizing them up. “You two….together?” he asked cautiously.
Andreas pretended to be embarrassed. “Is it obvious?”
“Just a guess.”
He eyed them again, clearly weighing his options. “We don’t have to drive right away,” he said slowly. “There’s room in the back; we could….hang out.”
Andreas and Roone looked at each other, as if considering.
Then Roone said, in a disgusted voice, “You can’t be serious.”
Andreas tried to look innocent. “What?”
“What the hell, Andreas? Seriously? I thought we were exclusive.”
“Jesus, Roone; get a grip.”
“Fuck you,” Roone spat, opening the door. “I’ll find another ride.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
He slammed the door shut and walked off.
Andreas hid his smile. Good. Now they were alone.
“Shit,” Wells said, looking only slightly chagrined. “I didn’t mean to scare your boyfriend away.”
“He’s being dramatic,” Andreas replied, turning to face him. “And he’s a prude, anyway. He’ll get over it.”
And he flashed a grin. “I still want to see what’s back there.”
Wells looked like he was trying to contain his excitement. They got out of the van, Andreas continuing to limp, and climbed into the back.
They lay down on the carpet.
